


Mnemosyne

by setos_puppy



Series: Waters of Memory [2]
Category: True Blood
Genre: M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Slaughtering of the German language, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 12:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4606476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setos_puppy/pseuds/setos_puppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trio head to Germany.  Adventure abounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh no.”

 

Godric peered over his cookbook, a hobby he had recently invested in since Eric couldn't cook – no matter how hard he tried, and Fritz had a penchant for setting things on fire 'by accident'. “What is it?”

 

Fritz turned, lowering the papers in his hand, folding them up carefully before stuffing them back in the envelope and cramming the envelope into his pocket. He had received it a week ago, and while both Eric and Godric were curious to know what the letter held for their lover, they hadn't pushed. And it seemed from the disarming smile and hands in pockets, Fritz wasn't going to tell. 

 

“So, what's for dinner?”

 

“I was thinking lamb, Eric bought some the other day, and we have everything in this recipe,” Godric replied, returning his gaze to the book. “However, it has five out of five stars on the difficulty scale, so I'm debating on that or just ordering Greek food.” 

 

“I like watching you cook. You could always make something simple, like soup.”

 

Godric thumbed through a few pages before finding a recipe for a potato soup. He read off the list of ingredients; potatoes, bacon, chicken stock, along with a bit of vegetables, and you could make it with a crusty bread and cheesy top like French onion soup. Placing the book into the small holder, Godric moved about, gathering everything he needed before beginning to wash, chop and cook. 

 

“Morning,” Eric greeted as he strode into the kitchen, rumpled from sleep. He kissed Fritz, long and slow, before wrapping his arms around Godric and dropping a kiss to his head. “What're you making?”

 

“Potato, bacon, and cheddar soup.”

 

Eric broke off from Godric as the smaller male stirred and placed a TruBlood into the microwave, heating it. While it warmed, he watched Fritz set the table and then turned his eyes back to his once Maker. “Did he open it?”

 

Godric nodded, shaking in pepper to the soup stock. “He didn't say anything.”

 

“Anything new happen today?”

 

“The people finally moved into the apartment across the hall. They want us to come over for dinner.”

 

Eric pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why didn't you...?”

 

“They saw Fritz and me walking in earlier and when we went to collect the mail the man invited us over.”

 

Eric took a long swallow of his TruBlood. It was thick, and bitter, but it did the job. “That will be a fun conversation.”

 

Godric ladled out two bowls with soup before placing toasty bread over top and then cheddar cheese before placing the oven safe bowls into the oven. “We can always tell them we're busy.” 

 

“I could always have sex with you on their dinner table.”

 

Godric tilted his head to the side, contemplating the suggestion. “It just might work.”

 

~*~

 

“So, do you want to tell me what that letter was about?” Godric asked. 

 

“Not really.”

 

Godric nodded and sunk lower in the bubbly bath water. The tub was filled with steaming, lavender scented water and Fritz. The German-American ran his hands up and down Godric's arms and kissed his neck. Godric sighed happily before leaning forward in the water when he heard the front door open and then shut. 

 

Eric was home. 

 

It wasn't long before Eric appeared in the doorway, jeans unbuttoned, slipping over his hipbones, black dress shirt unbuttoned. He looked absolutely edible. 

 

“You're too big to fit in the tub,” Fritz informed, lathering up his cerulean shaded hair. 

 

“My tub, my rules.” Eric sauntered towards the tub, shrugging off his shirt and kicking off his jeans. “Move forward.” After a bit of wiggling Fritz and Godric had made room and Eric slid in, knees hugging both of them. 

 

“Good thing we invested in quality,” Godric mused.

 

“Well, you need it when you have a six foot five former viking as a lover,” Fritz countered, picking up the shower head and turning the spray on warm before rinsing his hair clean. When Eric took over the task he sighed and leaned back, giving quiet noises of pleasure. “I take back you not coming into the tub.”

 

“I thought so.” Eric reclined against the back wall of the tub when he was finished. “So, who was the letter from?”

 

Fritz sighed, digging the heel of his palm under his left eye. “My parents.”

 

“Oh?” Godric swished water about as he turned sharply in the water. “You've never mentioned them.”

 

“We had a falling out. It's the first time since I was seventeen that they even attempted contact. They...” He scratched the back of his neck, nervous. “They wanted to marry me off. I didn't want to get married, I told them to cram it, and then I ran, because... well you don't talk to my parents that way. I've tried sending them letters, letting them know I was okay, but this is the first time they replied.”

 

“Marry you? At seventeen?” Godric asked, shocked.

 

“Fifteen. Actually.”

 

“Why the rules?” Eric asked, threading his fingers through Fritz's wet hair. 

 

Fritz fidgeted and bit his lip before leaning over the side of the tub and pulled over his pants, fingers grasping the envelope and slid it out of the pocket. He straightened, clutching onto the envelope for dear life before letting out a shaky breath and handing it to Eric. Eric took the envelope and glanced on the back, it didn't give anything away. 

 

Still... 

 

Sliding the papers free, Eric carefully unfolded the pages and glanced them over. They were written in small, feminine German cursive, reading under his breath. “Prince of Lorraine?!” Eric stared down at the pages, then his eyes flicked to the back of Fritz's head, then back to the papers. “You're... you're part of the Hapsburg lineage and the House of Lorraine?” He glanced back at the paper. “And your name is Wilhelm.”

 

“It's not that big of a --”

 

“Why didn't you tell us?” Godric asked with a soft voice. 

 

“Because I hate it. I hate it with every fiber of my being. It's just a stupid title, I mean no one in my family ever has a shot at anything, they act like giant jerks most of the time, and we have no power since it all got dissolved after the First World War – but no~, don't tell my father that. He didn't marry out of Austria into my mother's family for nothing. We're part of the Holy Roman Empire, look at us, we're so fancy, yet we can love our son because he's gay.”

 

“Is that what they said?” Godric questioned, turning fully in the water to face Fritz. “That they wanted no part of you because of your sexual orientation?”

 

“They – and by 'they' I mean 'him’ – said they needed heirs, which is complete bull crap because really, what are they going to do? Lounge around Germany and Austria and England acting like a bunch of pompous assholes treating people poorly because they think they're better than them? I want no part of it. I'd rather give it all up, work for a living, be with people I care for and be happy.”

 

“Did you talk to them about this?” Eric asked, tucking the letter away safely.

 

Fritz shook his head, running his hands through his hair. “My father and I got into a huge fight when I told him I like boys so I packed up what I could and grabbed the nearest plane out. The first two years my sister Hannah sent me presents and letters, but they stopped, I guess my dad found out. Yet, they've never cut off my money; I guess they figure maybe they can use it to track me. I don't care.”

 

“So why did they write you the letter?” Godric returned to leaning against Fritz's chest.

 

“My sister's getting married. I've been ordered to come. She wants me as her best man. I love her too much to refuse.”

 

Godric peered up at Fritz. “Would you like some company on your trip or would you prefer to go alone?”

 

“There's no way I'm not dragging you guys with me.”

 

“Well...” Eric pulled the plug and they all started to get out and dry off. “Maybe they've had a change of heart.”

 

“Doubt it.” Fritz toweled himself off. “But a free trip home and seeing my sister will be nice.”

 

They trooped out of the room and fell into the warm, comforting sheets of the bed. Godric curled in between Eric and Fritz. Eric peered over Godric's shoulder as he spooned against him and Fritz threaded his legs into the others on the bed. 

 

“So...” Eric ventured slowly, grinning. “Can we call you Wil?”

 

“I hate you.”

 

Godric propped himself up on an elbow, smirking playfully, fingers sliding down Fritz's body. “What if you made me scream it?”

 

Fritz's eyes flashed darkly and he pressed his mouth to Godric's in a hungry kiss, groaning when Godric opened under him. He pulled back, teeth tugging playfully on Godric's lower lip. “I think that can be arranged.” 

 

As his two human lovers tangled together to play Eric purred in the back of his throat, his fangs popping out as the hot bodies entwined.


	2. Chapter 2

It was late, near midnight, when they arrived in Berlin.   
  
  
Fritz was dressed in shockingly subdued clothing, a pair of black jeans, a white dress shirt, a pair of hot pink suspenders and a skinny black tie. His cerulean hair was flat on the sides and back but fluffed up on top, looking just rumpled enough to be sexy. They waited patiently by the Anubis Airlines pickup for Eric, who strolled out of the doors fixing his mussed hair and wearing a stunningly casual pair of skinny, black jeans and a white and black striped hooded sweatshirt. Godric was a mix between the two, wearing a pair of faded, acid wash brown jeans and a forest green long sleeved polo shirt.  
  
  
“So...” Godric ventured, peering up at Fritz. “What now?”  
  
  
Fritz was taking slow, deep breaths, fighting everything inside of him that was telling him to turn and get on the next plane. “Let's get a cab.”  
  
  
They gathered their luggage and made their out of the airport, Fritz lagging behind the rest slightly, nervous. Godric stopped and waited, looping his arm with Fritz's. “It's going to be brilliant, you'll see.”  
  
  
“There's a crowd,” Eric observed, watching as people filtered in and out, stopping every so often.   
  
  
Pushing his way out the door Fritz stopped short and groaned. No wonder there was a crowd. His mother had sent a procession. Not much, there was a town car, with his sister inside, no doubt, and a chauffeur holding onto a placard reading:  _Wilhelm Jürgen Friedrich Kristian von Lothringen_.  
  
  
“I hate my life,” Fritz muttered, gritting his teeth.   
  
  
He was nudged forward by Eric. Fritz jolted, muttering about traitorous vampires as he walked forward. The door to the town car was opened, the luggage taken and Fritz stepped in followed by Godric and Eric. The woman, whose hair was a soft strawberry blonde and pulled into a well-maintained up-do, smiled widely. She leaned across her seat and folded Fritz into her arms; he hugged her back tight, breathing in Hannah's long missed and forgotten scent.   
  
  
“I've missed you,” she breathed against her brother's neck.  
  
  
“I missed you too.”  
  
  
They parted and Fritz sat back, crossing his legs and buckling his seatbelt before the car began to move.   
  
  
“So...” Hannah started, before frowning, she pulled up a tiny clutch purse, clicking on an overhead light and prodded through it before pulling out a small, round cardboard packet. She popped out a tiny, round battery before reaching up to her left ear and removing something, after a moment of fiddling; she returned the thing to her ear and smiled. “There. Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?”  
  
  
“This is Godric and Eric.”  
  
  
“How nice.” She offered her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”  
  
  
“You didn't need to make a scene and pick me up.”  
  
  
“Mother insisted. She wanted me to bring Stefan, but I knew it wasn't a good idea to crowd you.”  
  
  
Fritz was grateful for his sister's interference before laughing softly when she fiddled with her right ear. “You're malfunctioning on us!”  
  
  
She laughed along with him. “They've never gone out at the same time! I preferred my old ones; at least they didn't burn through batteries as fast.”   
  
  
Fritz moved to say something but then closed his mouth, waving, and his sister looked up and he made quick, fluid motions with his fingers. She burst into laughter, returning the object to her ear before smacking him with her handbag.   
  
  
“I'm  _not_  a robot! You're more metal than me! My  _hörapparat_  are plastic.”   
  
  
“Abuse! Just wait until I take them from you, then your super hearing will be gone.”   
  
  
“Fritz, don't take your sister's hearing aids,” Eric chastised, smirking.  
  
  
“You don't know what it's like to have an older sister!”   
  
  
“Have you met Pam!?”  
  
  
“You made her that way!”  
  
  
“I did no such thing.”  
  
  
Godric rolled his eyes. “Why do I love you two?” He rubbed his temples before sliding over to the opposite seat and smiling at Hannah. “So, are you excited to get married?”  
  
  
“Oh, very.” She glanced at Eric and Fritz, smiling softly. “So, how did you meet?”  
  
  
“It's... complicated.”  
  
  
“We have an hour long car ride.”  
  
  
“Well...”  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
It was late when they arrived at the estate. Hannah broke off and waved as Maria, the housekeeper ushered the men upstairs. Eric was shown into a blacked out room and no amount of coaxing could get Godric into a separate room. Fritz let himself be lead down the hall to his bedroom and hugged Maria before closing the door.   
  
  
He moved towards the bed, dropped onto it, bounced, before stretching out. He tossed, this way and that, before getting up. He poked through his old dressers and closets, looking at his old clothes and uniforms, old pictures. The room was so dark and quiet it was stifling.   
  
  
Fritz journeyed into the hall, slinking around the corner and slipping into Eric and Godric's room. Godric was already asleep, curled up against Eric's side as Eric read in the faint light of a lamp. He looked up when Fritz walked in and smiled. Fritz relaxed and immediately began shedding clothes, when he was down to his boxers he crawled in next to Godric and sighed.   
  
  
“You're very brave for coming home.”  
  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
  
There was a bit of silence when Eric turned a page. “Your sister seems lovely. I just wish I could help out more during the day, without being... you know... dead.”   
  
  
Fritz nodded, yawning widely. “Good night Eric.”  
  
  
“Sleep well, schmätterling.”  
  
  
Fritz lifted his head from the pillow. “Did you just call me 'butterfly'?”  
  
  
“I think it suits you.”  
  
  
Fritz smiled into his pillow. He finally had his own term of endearment from Eric.  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
“Where is he?”  
  
  
“Father, he's probably still asleep, we got in very late last night.”  
  
  
“Maria just checked his room, he wasn't there. Where is he?”  
  
  
Klaus stalked through the halls, still dressed in his pajamas, covered properly with a robe. Hannah was running after him, also in bed clothes with a robe, her hair up in curlers and secured with a snood. They reached the room where Godric and Eric had been invited and he threw the door open. Hannah had a moment to enjoy the picture of the three of them intertwined in sleep, Eric's arm thrown protectively over his lovers' bodies, before her father marched over.   
  
  
However, before Klaus could reach the bed, Eric's eyes snapped open and he lifted his head, his fangs were erect and he growled low. Klaus stopped short and his mouth twisted in distaste, he fisted his hands and turned from the bed with a muttered “schwul” before pushing past Hannah. Hannah watched as, the threat now gone, Eric lifelessly collapsed to the bed. Grasping the knob, Hannah pulled the door closed behind her.   
  
  
~*~  
  
  
Godric stifled a laugh when Fritz walked into the main room, where he was enjoying a game of euchre with Fritz's mother – Katarina, Hannah, and Stefan – Hannah’s husband-to-be. They were all wonderfully pleasant people. It seemed that the only displeasing person in the household was Klaus, and as the patriarch, what he said went. He had made Fritz change his hair. Now, instead of the cerulean, hot pink, fire engine red, lime green, snow white, and royal purple colours he had come to love (not all at the same time, of course), it was a rather flat, bland, coppery red-blond.   
  
  
“Oh... Wilhelm...” Katarina stood up after placing her cards down, her hands touching her son's hair. “It's...” She sighed, trailing off.  
  
  
“ _Mutti_ ,” Fritz began, pouting, “look what he did to my hair.”  
  
  
“I enjoyed the blue.” She prodded it, seeing if maybe it could be salvaged, if she could perhaps breathe some life into it. “Come with me.”  
  
  
They returned twenty minutes later and Godric smiled, she had added long chunks of vibrant red and black to it and spiked it up.  
  
  
“Much better, I must say, you have quite a talent.”  
  
  
Katarina waved her hand about. “Oh pish. Sit, Wilhelm, play with us.”  
  
  
Fritz dropped onto the couch beside Godric, smiling at him and wrapping his arms around Godric's waist, chin on Godric's shoulder. “Hi.”  
  
  
Godric turned his head, giving Fritz an eskimo kiss before giving him a real one, which Fritz returned in fervor. Godric pulled back, inhaling sharply. “Hi.”  
  
  
“Get a room,” a teasing voice drawled from behind and Fritz looked up, smiling at Eric. “Or at least let me join.”  
  
  
“Boys, behave.” Katarina reprimanded before offering her hand. “Katarina von Lothringen.”  
  
  
“Pleased to meet you,” Eric greeted, however, instead of shaking, he kissed the top of her knuckles just slightly. It was the Sheriff in him. He straightened after a moment, releasing her hand. “Eric Northman.”  
  
  
He sat down on Godric's other side, smiling when he was greeted with a kiss to the cheek. Katarina sat down and picked up her cards before throwing down the ten of hearts.   
  
  
“Wilhelm was telling us how you all met, a fascinating story.”   
  
  
“It was a whirlwind, indeed.” Eric picked up the glass of TruBlood when it was dropped off and took a long swallow. “Thank you for breakfast.”  
  
  
“Not a problem. I'm just sad you won't be able to attend Hannah's wedding.”   
  
  
“It's alright, I'll be more than glad to attend the reception if you'll have me.”  
  
  
“Of course!”  
  
  
When the next hand was dealt, Eric picked up his own cards and sorted them to his liking. When he threw in a card, laughing to something Hannah had said, he wondered when on earth he had gotten so soft.  
  
  
  
~~~~~  
  
hörapparat - hearing aids


	3. Chapter 3

“It’s nice to have some time to ourselves,” Godric breathed, looping his arm around Eric’s as they walked through Berlin.   
  
  
Fritz was busy being fitted for a suit and running through the procession of the wedding which he was an impromptu groomsman in. So, to fill their time, Godric and Eric had decided to take a long, luxurious walk through nighttime Berlin; which was bustling with as much life as it did during the day, if not more.   
  
  
“So, where do you want to go?” Eric asked, fingers stroking over Godric’s wrist. “A club, a show, some morbid heritage site?”  
  
  
“I…” Godric went eerily quiet, tilting his head when they reached a street corner. He let go of Eric and after a moment, began walking across the street. Confused and concerned, Eric followed.  
  
  
“Godric?”  
  
  
Godric gave no verbal reply, just kept walking, in an almost trace like state through the wandering streets and back alleys. At one point he reached an impassable juncture and frowned, brows furrowing, before finding a way around it. After almost forty minutes of walking he stopped suddenly on a street corner, peering over at a building. It was old, made of stone, and had faded paint over certain areas of rock.   
  
  
Godric crossed the street and opened the metal grate over he door before making his way inside. The building was obviously in disrepair and no longer used, littered with lives left behind. As Eric followed his once maker through the shadowed halls he wondered what was going on. They passed open doors in the stairwells, toys, clothes and piles of books spilling out, as if lives were left on hold, but it was obvious the place had been left as it was, just was it was, for years.   
  
  
When they reached the sixth floor of the walkup, almost the full height of the building Godric disembarked from the stairwell. He pushed past a door, it shuddered, groaned and let out a high pitched squeak when it gave way; the noise cutting through the air in an oddly disturbing fashion. Godric advanced through the halls slowly, his skin almost incandescent in the darkness, glowing when patches of moonlight flooded areas of dust caked floors.   
  
  
Godric stopped at the end of the hall, his hands rose up and brushed off a thick coating of dust from the apartment number – 616 – and he tilted his head and studied it. After several long moments he grasped the knob and turned, the door didn’t budge, frowning, Godric tried again, pressing his weight against the door and stumbling inside when the door gave way. Eric followed him inside.   
  
  
The room was dressed; looking lived in, loved, odd. After a few moments of searching Godric found a kerosene lamp and removed the glass chimney, he pulled out a slim box of matches from his pocket and struck a match, lighting the lamp before replacing the chimney. The vibrant yellow glow cast dancing shadows over Godric’s face as he picked it up and walked through the small apartment.   
  
  
Eric’s eyes took in everything, the worn, dusty furniture, the paintings on the wall, the old icebox and stove placed the era of the building, the apartment to about the 1930s. He watched as Godric slipped into a smaller room and he followed at a safe distance. It was a bedroom, well maintained, the windows boarded up and covered with thick, black material that was nailed into the plaster of the wall. It came with a bed, a vanity, a gramophone and a set of bookshelves and a writing desk.   
  
  
Godric set the lamp on the writing desk and crouched beside it, pulling out a milk crate from beside the bed. He slid out a record and blew the dust off lightly before turning to the gramophone; he placed the record on the turn table, wound it, and placed the needle down. The waltz from Tchaikovsky’s _Sleeping Beauty_  filled the room.   
  
  
One of Godric’s favourite songs.  
  
  
One of  _ **old**_  Godric’s favourite songs.  
  
  
Eric inched towards the vanity, picking up a frame; he wiped it off and peered at the picture behind the layer of dust. It was of himself and Godric, dressed in fashions akin to turn of the century England. Eric could remember the time, just before he met Pam and he and Godric separated. He had always wondered what had happened to Godric after they separated, during the War and after. He had lived in Germany.   
  
  
How did he remember?  
  
  
What did this mean?  
  
  
Godric had never been able to remember past the Civil War. Never remembered anything about his own death, death by his own design, or the Fellowship of the Sun. Eric had made sure to guard all that from him, hide it, and shield Godric from anymore pain of fanatical religious groups. The Cult of Cybele had been bad enough for more than one lifetime.  
  
  
There was static before the song began to repeat.  
  
  
“Dance with me, child.”  
  
  
Eric looked over from the photo, shocked at the words; the request, no, the order. He placed the photo down and smiled, took Godric into his arms and danced.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
They returned to Fritz’s family home just before dawn, Fritz was waiting, sitting in the front gardens. He looked funny, dressed in pajamas, hair curling about his face as opposed to defying gravity, and his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of apple cinnamon tea. He smiled and stood when they approached, Godric weighted heavily against Eric’s form, half-asleep.   
  
  
“Have fun?”  
  
  
Eric sifted his fingers through Godric’s fine hair and mused on the nightly events. “It was interesting.”   
  
  
“Interesting?”  
  
  
Eric caught Godric as he swayed, asleep on his feet and gathered his once Maker into his arms. “Come on, it’s a long story.”  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
“So he’s starting to remember?” Fritz asked, the day had faded to night and Godric was still sleeping.  
  
  
“I can only imagine that being in a city that he spent a significant amount of time in triggered something in his memory.”   
  
  
Godric twitched in his sleep, muttering something softly to himself in Latin; seconds later he was talking in Gaelic, and then switched to something guttural and raw, something Fritz couldn’t recognize. Eric brushed a hand over his forehead, which was dampened with sweat, his usually pale skin flushed rosy. Stretching to the nightstand Eric wrung out a cloth and pressed the cool compress to Godric’s forehead.   
  
  
A soft creak from the door drew his attention and he looked up from his vigil to see Hannah standing there. She smiled in his direction and inched into the room, taking in the sight of Godric cradled in Eric’s lap, muttering to himself in ancient languages and her brother perched protectively beside the vampire and the once vampire. She stopped at the foot of the bed, her eyes sympathetically taking in the sight of the shivering, nightmare fevered Godric.  
  
  
“Can I do anything to help?”  
  
  
Fritz shook his head sadly and squeezed his hands around the clammy one they grasped. Hannah sat beside her brother and placed a hand on his shoulder before hugging him tightly.   
  
  
Godric jerked strongly and wailed something loud and pained in Latin, writhing in agony.   
  
  
“What’s he saying?” Fritz asked, his voice a low whisper.  
  
  
Eric shook his head, crimson tears dripping down his cheeks. “You don’t want to know.”  
  
  
“Eric, please –”  
  
  
“He’s begging.”  
  
  
“For what?”  
  
  
Eric released one of his hands from Godric’s and wiped his cheeks. “For them to cauterize his wounds.”  
  
  
As Godric jerked and whimpered softly, Fritz looked down at his face, the scream that fell from his lips after a moment of impenetrable silence shook Fritz to the core. He felt like he was going to be sick, like his stomach was protesting its very existence, damning the creation of the cult.   
  
  
“Oh God…”  
  
  
Godric went limp against the bed, his breathing slowly evened out, the whimpering and pleading subsided. His eyes, wet and shaded with confusion, blinked open and he looked around the room. “Eric?”  
  
  
Eric smoothed his hand down Godric’s cheek, helping him sit up and took the water from Hannah, pressing it into Godric’s hands. “I’m here.”  
  
  
Godric drank slowly with Eric’s help and rested against his chest when he pulled his mouth from the glass. He burrowed his face against Eric’s neck and breathed him in, eyes closed.   
  
  
“I remember. I remember everything.”


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.”  
  
  
It was the next night and Godric was splayed out in a hammock with Fritz. They were swinging back and forth lightly, watching people set up a trellis in the dark. Eric was still inside the house, he and Katarina had grown rather fond of one another.   
  
  
“Much. Before it was all such an inconsistent jumble of languages and places and large gaps of nothing, now… Now it all falls into place.”  
  
  
Fritz pressed a kiss to Godric’s shoulder and hugged him against his chest tighter. “Can I ask… why did you do it?”  
  
  
Godric was quiet; he tipped his head back and studied the stars. “I was tired, Fritz, so very tired. Life was monotonous, there was no adventure or surprise, and there was nothing worth living for. True, I had Eric, but he was grown – a thousand years old – and I was Sheriff, but it was a puppet position, I could have been more, King of Texas, of the adjoining states, but I lacked drive.” Godric pursed his lips and threaded his fingers with Fritz’s. “It’s hard to explain…”  
  
  
“You don’t feel that way now?”  
  
  
“No. Being human has given me so much to live for; so many new things to experience. I was sixteen when I became a vampire. My life had been one of trial and tribulation. I was born illegitimate my mother was a priestess of Vesta; she had been captured and raped by a band of rouges when she was seventeen. Cast out of her priestess sect because of her broken vow of life long celibacy she pandered for money. When I was five she tried to sell me to a gladiator ludus for money, but they laughed and spat in her face. They took her, however, for… womanly capabilities and sent me to the streets. I took to stealing to survive, I was good, but it wasn’t living. I attempted to get into school, but with improper citizenship I wasn’t allowed, I tried to get into the army as well, but found myself turned away. When I was nine a wandering cult of Cybele – we had encountered the Greeks around the time of my birth during the wars with Carthage and then later with Macedon – during what I think is now called the Second Punic War and the First and Second Macedonian Wars. Anyway, they took me in. I learned the secrets from them about the Mother Goddess, and our relations to her, our debts to her. When I was… twelve I think I was tattooed for the first time, and branded as an official devotee. When I was thirteen and had my first stirrings of sexual feeling I was told it was time to give my life wholly unto Cybele. On that  _Dies Sanguinis_  I gave my body to my Goddess and pledged life long purity.”  
  
  
Fritz said nothing as Godric spoke, not wanting to rob his lover of his chance to speak. He tightened his arms around Godric and nuzzled into his hair, but didn’t dare speak.   
  
  
“It hurt. Oh God did it hurt. I’ve never experienced that much pain in my life, before or ever since. Not even dying hurt as bad as that. I can still remember every last bit of it. All the gruesome details about the knives and the boiling water and the smell of blood and burning flesh and the infection that followed. I can remember the way people would look at us, dressed in our mixture of a stola and a toga, praising and singing and giving away flowers and bread. We were something that was talked about but not acknowledged. When I was fifteen we had traveled outside of Rome, to Greece. There we were more welcomed, but as Romans, or pseudo-Romans, with a war going on, we were pushed to the wayside. I broke from my fellow priests, tired, lonely despite the company, and made my way to Delphi. I managed to blend, I had learned Greek from other street children, and though I was rusty, I was convincing. I went to the Pythia at Delphi, fell in with a troupe of Apollo worshippers, then a band of Mercury worshippers – oh how I miss them, even now. But it was with a segregated cult that practiced Orphism that changed me.”  
  
  
Godric paused, twisting his fingers in his shirt and gathering his breath.  
  
  
“They adopted me, even as an outsider, and taught me everything. Even when they learned of what I had done they loved me. They had a belief in transgression, crossing the boundaries of the living and the dead; these… bizarre rituals. My life changed just days after my sixteenth birthday; I had been told by the main priestess, the representative of Persephone that I was to strip naked and go into the woods. I did what I was told, I wandered deep into the thicket of trees, where I could see nothing but the ink blue of the sky and removed my clothing. It was cold, and dark, but I wasn’t afraid. There was quiet, such pure, thick quiet. Then a man, so white, haunting, he was like Orpheus himself, like he had descended into Hades and come back, but for a price. He told me that I was special, that I had been chosen – like Persephone – to descend, living, into the realm of the dead and to become like her – transcendent. I was awed, I had never been special before, in fact, I had been everything but. He fed from me, drained me and gave me his blood. I saw a full moon, low in the sky, it filled my vision, even as it blurred I could still see the milky, radiant whiteness of the moon. Then I died.”  
  
  
Fritz inhaled sharply, his nose nuzzling into Godric’s hair, his fingers squeezing Godric’s, as if confirming he was still there. Unable to believe such a story. Stuff like that just didn’t happen. His eyes shifted focus at a catch of movement from the doorway; Eric was standing there, a mug in his hands, and a compassionate look on his face. With a jerk of his head, Fritz smiled when Eric walked out, dropping into a plush chair beside them.  
  
  
Silence filled the air, save for the wind and the crickets.   
  
  
Fritz laid back and stared at the moon.  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
“Whooo!”  
  
  
Godric laughed at the discomfort on Stefan’s face at the dancers. They were all out for his last night of being single. Most of people there were Stefan’s friends and family, but Fritz, he and Eric had been dragged along. To an exotic dance bar of all places. One with women, no less.   
  
  
It was winding down now; however, they had been there for hours.   
  
  
The wedding was the next afternoon.  
  
  
“Alright, we’re off,” Fritz announced, climbing out of Eric’s lap and clapping a hand on Stefan’s shoulder. “Have a good sleep, my man!”  
  
  
Before Godric could protest he was hauled out of his comfortable chair and yanked so hard he dropped his Shirley Temple. Once they were in the cold night air Godric made a soft noise in the back of his throat when he was pressed against the wall and kissed by Fritz.   
  
  
Godric pulled away, smiling. “What was that for?”  
  
  
“There was too much heterosexuality happening.”  
  
  
“Ah.”  
  
  
Eric rolled his eyes, but kissed Fritz when he was pulled down, more than happy to reaffirm the German’s homosexuality.   
  
  
“We’re going to go to a gay bar uptown,” Fritz informed when he stepped back, looping his arm with Godric’s. “Wanna come?”  
  
  
“Actually I have a visit to make to the Queen.”  
  
  
“Queen?” Fritz’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Right, vampire thing.”  
  
  
Eric nodded. “I need to pay her a visit; it’s customary when you enter into a new territory. She’s a pleasant woman, I’ll see if I can arrange a meeting with her for you, if you’re interested.”  
  
  
“Sounds neat.”  
  
  
Godric pulled Eric down for a kiss, smiling against his mouth. When they parted, Godric ran his hands over Eric’s chest. “Be good. Olivia can be very short tempered.”  
  
  
Eric smiled and dropped a kiss to Godric’s head and then Fritz’s before stepping off the curb and vanishing.   
  
  
“So…” Fritz ventured, taking Godric’s hand. “Gay bar?”  
  
  
“Sounds like fun.”  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
It was late, past two in the morning, when Godric and Fritz wrestled free from the club for air. They had spent the last few hours dancing, entwined with one another on the dance floor in an endless, exhilarating push and pull. Fritz sighed and pressed his back against the cold brick, watching as wafts of steam floated off of his and Godric’s bodies.   
  
  
Somehow, in the midst of things, Godric lost his shirt.   
  
  
Fritz wasn’t complaining.  
  
  
“Eric’s going to be sorry he missed this,” Godric mused, taking large swallows from his water bottle before pouring some over his head. “He would have loved that hip swivel thing you did.”  
  
  
“I’ll show him later when I am pantsless and he is inside of me.”  
  
  
Godric laughed and pressed his mouth to Fritz’s. “You are insatiable.”  
  
  
“You love it.”  
  
  
As they regained their breathing, they twined hands and began walking. It was a bit of a trek back to Fritz’s parents’ estate, but it was worth it. It was beautiful and clear.   
  
  
“Paragraph 175 can kiss my ass,” Fritz muttered as he snatched Godric’s water and took a sip.  
  
  
“I was here, you know… When it happened...”  
  
  
“What?”  
  
  
“Hitler and all that.”  
  
  
A frown tugged at Fritz’s mouth a moment. “Must’ve been scary.”  
  
  
“It was. The world was very bleak then. I much prefer Germany now, accepting and friendly.”  
  
  
“Mm,” Fritz agreed, nodding. He tugged Godric into a small alleyway. “Shortcut.”  
  
  
They emerged on the other side of the alley chasing each other, laughing and being silly. Godric stopped short suddenly, panting and holding up a hand for quiet. Fritz shuffled against him, hands falling possessively to his hips.  
  
  
“What is it?”  
  
  
“I heard something.”  
  
  
“It was probably just a cat.”  
  
  
They resumed walking, though Godric felt on edge, a new, rather uncomfortable feeling. It happened suddenly when they passed the next alleyway. Godric hit the wall, air leaving his lungs in a rush, vision blurring. When he managed to clear his vision he saw two men on top of Fritz.  
  
  
“Fritz!” Shooting up, Godric tackled one, rolling hard on his side when he was bucked off and grunting in pain at a jab of pain to his side.   
  
  
There was yelling, Godric caught snippets – “send a message to…” “disgusting” “hurry up” “schwul, schwul, schwul” – then there was a pounding of feet and frantic screaming.   
  
  
Godric hauled himself off of his side and crawled over to Fritz, biting his lip at the sight of his lover. It was bad. Really bad; blood painted Fritz’s white shirt red and Godric could see, even in the dim light from the street lamps and the moon the fact that Fritz’s stomach was bleeding from a deep wound and there was a second on his chest, blood practically gushing.   
  
  
“Oh God…” Godric pressed his hands to the wounds, trying to staunch the flow, which pushed on through his fingers. “Fritz, its okay, its all gonna be okay.”  
  
  
“Don’ ‘anna die.”  
  
  
“Don’t talk stupid. You’re not gonna die.”  
  
  
Godric wanted to scream out for help but it was late, an abandoned, industrial part of town and he didn’t have a cell phone. He shut his eyes and thought of Eric, desperately hoping that somehow he would find them.   
  
  
“You’re hurt…” Fritz’s arm brushed Godric’s side and Godric looked down, two jagged pieces of glass were stuck into his ribcage and he was bleeding freely.   
  
  
“I’m fine,” Godric lied, trying to hold back quiet whimpers due to the fact that with every exhale Fritz made more blood pulsed out. “Stay with me.”  
  
  
“Scared… Cold…”  
  
  
“Oh God, Fritz…” Godric tried to hold on, even as his world greyed out around the edges.   
  
  
Eric…  
  
  
“Fritz?” Godric pushed against the pale, blood soaked skin, shaking Fritz, who moved limply with the force. “No…”  
  
  
Godric’s world spun and then went black.  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Godric shot up, eyes darting about the room. He was in a bedroom, different than the one he shared with Eric at Fritz’s parents place.  
  
  
Fritz…  
  
  
Throwing off the covers, Godric slid from the bed, feet hitting the plush carpet. He was dressed different too, in a pair of warm pajamas. It would be creepy if he was actually thinking straight.  
  
  
He rushed out of the room and down the winding staircase, stopping short when a bubbly young woman greeted him at the bottom of the stairs. “Well hi!”  
  
  
“Where’s Fritz? Where’s Eric?”  
  
  
“They’re resting. They’re both alright. If you’ll just --”  
  
  
Godric grabbed her arm as hard as he could and pulled, causing her to stumble back into him. “Where are they? Where am I?”  
  
  
“Düsseldorf... You’re in Queen Olivia’s home.”  
  
  
Godric breathed out a sigh of relief and smiled a little before panic flared up again. “What happened to Fritz, he was –”  
  
  
“He’s fine. Just fine. The prince is sleeping.”  
  
  
“Can I see him?”  
  
  
“After. How about I feed you first? I’m Janna.”  
  
  
“Nice to meet you. I’m guessing you’re the Queen’s daytime attendant.”   
  
  
“Yessir. It’s late, almost five. We called your hosts; they said they’d postpone the wedding.”  
  
  
Godric groaned and followed her into the extravagant kitchen. That was the last thing they needed, to be imposing. He sat when ordered to and took the offered food. As he ate, Godric kept stealing glances at the clock, wondering when he could see Eric and Fritz.  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
“Go slowly, you may feel overwhelmed.”  
  
  
“Wha’ ‘appened?”  
  
  
“You and Godric were attacked.”  
  
  
“’m all dirty and muddy.”  
  
  
Eric helped Fritz lean against him as he stood, swaying a little. Fritz ran a hand through his disheveled hair and looked down at himself, brushing his dirt caked clothing. He froze and looked up at Eric, realization written on his face.   
  
  
“You turned me.”  
  
  
“I did.”  
  
  
Fritz clutched onto Eric, hyperventilating. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my  **fucking**  God! Why did you… Oh God, I’m going to be sick.”  
  
  
Eric planted his hands firmly on Fritz’s shoulders and steered him to the stone steps of the basement. He sat beside Fritz and rubbed his back in slow, soothing circles until Fritz’s uneven breathing slowed.   
  
  
“You were dying,” Eric explained, pressing his mouth against Fritz’s temple. “Your stomach was split open and you had been stabbed so viciously your ribs had been bared. Godric had been injured but managed to send a distress call to me. I got there in time to save you, just barely. It took three of us to pry Godric off of you, he just wouldn’t let go. He’s fine as well, Queen Olivia healed him.”   
  
  
“But why did you --?”  
  
  
“Idiot. Do you doubt my love for you that much?”  
  
  
Fritz let out a noise that was a mixture of a laugh and a sob and hid his face in Eric’s chest. “You never said anything.”  
  
  
“I’m an action person; more or less.”  
  
  
“Jerk.”  
  
  
Eric grinned and pressed a kiss to the top of Fritz’s head. “What do you say to a bath?”  
  
  
“Can Godric come?”  
  
  
“Not yet. You need to feed first. Come on, we’ll get you washed up.”  
  
  
Fritz let himself be led up the stairs and down a hallway before sliding into a dimly lit room. It was bathed in firelight and filled with steam, which was emanating from a large pool of water that looked like utter heaven. Everything Fritz did felt sluggish and heavy, his fingers fumbling over his buttons. He looked away sheepishly when Eric undid his bloody and muddy shirt for him, fingers sliding over his chest, examining for any trace of a wound. Fritz allowed himself to be undressed and then lifted and deposited into the steamy bathwater. He sat on an underwater bench and watched as Eric removed his clothes and slid in beside him.   
  
  
Fritz had never thought he was anything special to the vampire Sheriff; a perk that came with Godric, a new pet, not someone worthy of love, let alone being made into a Childe. He felt embarrassed, like something to be treasured and doted upon, it was a weird feeling to have towards Eric. Of course Fritz loved him, it was hard not to when you learned of the real Eric Northman, but never expected the feeling to be felt in return.   
  
  
“Turn around and I’ll – why are you crying?”  
  
  
“Because I’m happy you bloody great Viking! I never knew you cared! I just… I… I…” Fritz moaned and covered his face, sobbing into his hands. He curled against Eric when he was pulled against his lover-cum-Maker. “I love you so much and…”  
  
  
“Shh,” Eric crooned, running his hands up and down Fritz’s back. “If I knew it meant so much to you I would have said it.”  
  
  
“It isn’t that, well it is, but it isn’t,” Fritz spoke into Eric’s shoulder.  
  
  
“You didn’t think you were worthy? That you were just a toy? Fritz if you were a passing fancy I wouldn’t have let you close to Godric, given you keys to my apartment or shown you where I sometimes sleep in Fangtasia. I’ve trusted you implicitly, more than most humans, more than any human, actually. Now, will you stop crying and let me scrub your back so we can eat?”  
  
  
“Maybe I want you to hold me forever.”  
  
  
Eric rolled his eyes. Newborns. “I promise I’ll hold you when you’re clean and dressed and fed.”  
  
  
Slowly, hesitantly, Fritz pulled away from Eric, cupping his hands in the water and bringing them up to wash away his bloody tears. He let himself be turned and sighed happily at the feeling of a hot, soapy sponge on his back. He relaxed in Eric’s arms and let his head tilt forward.   
  
  
His fangs popped out and he squeaked. Eric laughed.  
  
  
“You are such a fucking jerk.”  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
“Eric!” Godric shot up when Eric strode into the room. “Where’s…” Godric’s words trailed off when he spotted Fritz inching into the room behind Eric, hands curled into the back of Eric’s new suit jacket, head ducked low. It was almost as if he was hiding behind him.   
  
  
Godric looked at Eric.  
  
  
Eric looked at Godric.  
  
  
Fritz looked at the floor.  
  
  
“Fritz…” Godric crept forward, watching the red head, who twitched at the mention of his name. “Look at me.”   
  
  
“No.”  
  
  
“Fritz,” Godric’s tone was stubborn now.  
  
  
“No. I can’t.”  
  
  
“Please…” Slowly Fritz raised his head, peering around Eric, mouth firmly clamped shut. Godric smiled widely. “I was so worried. What’s wrong?”  
  
  
Fritz huffed and looked at the floor. “They won’t go away. I can smell you and it’s a jumble in my head and…” Fritz’s eyes widened when he felt a hand, hot, so hot, on his cheek. He raised his head and looked at Godric. Fritz swallowed nervously, his breathing heavy and uneven. “Godri—”   
  
  
Godric craned up, mouth pressing against Fritz’s softly, inhaling sharply. He pulled away after a moment, forehead pressed to Fritz’s, eyes wide and shining. “I thought I lost you. I was so scared, no one would tell me anything and no one would let me out of their sight and…” He sniffled, rubbing his nose against Fritz’s. “They’re beautiful, just like you, they’re a part of you now.”  
  
  
Fritz smiled, his eyes fluttering at the comforting smell of Godric, something new and heady and perfect. “I really want to hug you but I’m scared, I don’t want to hurt you.”  
  
  
“I trust you and Eric’s here…”  
  
  
Fritz nodded slowly, his arms moving to surround Godric’s form and with a gentle tug he had Godric flush against him. Godric who was so warm and safe. Fritz closed his eyes and breathed Godric in, felt his heart beating and the rush of air through his lungs. He smelled so good…   
  
  
Fritz pulled away sharply, eyes flying open and gasping. “Woah. That was close.”  
  
  
“See,” Eric said slowly, “you do have restraint.”   
  
  
Fritz gave a shaky nod, smiling proudly. “Go me.”  
  
  
“Now, close your eyes. Good. Now, picture something calming, anything, unicorns, a beach, fluffy kittens, or mountains of marshmallows, whatever you want.”  
  
  
“Why?”  
  
  
“Just try it.”  
  
  
Fritz looked perturbed before serenity washed over his face and there was a quiet snap as his fangs retracted. “Hey! I did it!”  
  
  
Godric watched the two in amusement. “This is very different than what I taught you.”  
  
  
“Yes well… You taught me to rip out the throat of every person who got in my way and to bathe in human blood and do what I pleased.”  
  
  
“Hello, just got them in check, don’t want to have a fang-on again.”  
  
  
“A what?” Godric tilted his head, looking bewildered.  
  
  
“Fang-on. Like a hard-on. But with fangs.”  
  
  
Godric chuckled. “Clever. Now that I know you’re both safe, I’m going to take a shower.”  
  
  
Snap. “ _ **Son of a bitch**_!”  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
“Are you sure? I won’t be offended if you choose to just sleep with Eric.”   
  
  
“No. I want you here too.”  
  
  
Godric nodded, shutting the door in their borrowed bedroom, Eric was already curled around Fritz, holding him protectively. It reminded Godric of the way he acted when Eric was first turned. Godric shucked off his pajamas, leaving his body clad only in boxers. Fritz inhaled sharply and Godric couldn’t help the small smirk when he heard ‘calm blue ocean’ being echoed quietly. He crawled into bed and made himself comfortable, sighing when Fritz curled against him, cool, but familiar.   
  
  
“God… You smell so good…” Fritz breathed into his shoulder, curling even closer. “Like woodsmoke and wine and something raw.”   
  
  
Eric opened his mouth but Godric shook his head, smiling. He was only human now, but he knew, faintly, the way it felt to be newborn, when everything smelled so good, looked brilliant, and tasted even better. He lay still as Fritz nuzzled against him, inhaling in slow, deep breaths and making pleased, quiet noises. Godric knew, as Fritz pressed even further against him, that Fritz was hard, that everything inside of Fritz was calling to bury everything he had inside of Godric.   
  
  
“I want you so bad.”  
  
  
“I know.”  
  
  
“Can I..?”  
  
  
Godric looked at Eric out of the corner of his eye; Eric looked back, and raised one shoulder in a shrug. Eric looked concerned, but also knew that Godric knew his own limitations.   
  
  
“How about I do something?” Godric proposed, lightly pushing Fritz back against the pillows and straddling him. Fritz’s eyes were blown wide with pleasure, fangs fully erect and pressing into his plush bottom lip. He wouldn’t last no matter what. Fritz nodded, jerkily. “Good.”  
  
  
Godric slid down, pressing a few kisses to Fritz’s chest before pulling off his boxer-briefs. Flinging them aside Godric hooked one of Fritz’s knees over his shoulder and licked a line from Fritz’s thigh to his crotch, nuzzling against his impressive erection. Fritz whined and lifted his hips, giving shallow thrusts. Godric grinned and licked up his erection, taking it into his mouth.   
  
  
“I… Godric…”   
  
  
Looking up through his lashes Godric hummed a little, tongue swirling about the head of Fritz’s cock. His head was thrown back, hands pressed to the headboard and Eric was watching, enthralled, palm pressed to the front of his pajama pants. Sliding his eyes shut Godric turned his attention to Fritz, not bothering to tease, he set a hard, quick pace. It didn’t take long before Fritz’s hips bucked once and he came with a growl. Pulling back, Godric swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.   
  
  
“What about you?”  
  
  
“I’m fine.”   
  
  
Fritz nodded tiredly. “I owe you.”  
  
  
“I think Eric could use a hand, however.”  
  
  
Fritz’s eyes turned to his Maker and he shifted, pressing against Eric, kissing him as he batted Eric’s hand away and replaced it with his own. Godric propped himself up on an elbow, content to watch them, nipping at each other and Fritz skillfully bringing Eric to completion.   
  
  
Fritz sighed happily and curled against Eric, dropping into sleep quickly. Eric watched him for a long moment before kissing the top of his head. His attention turned to Godric. He reached for his once Maker, concerned he had been alienated.   
  
  
“I’m fine, beloved,” Godric assured, “I wasn’t in the mood, I enjoyed playing.”  
  
  
Eric nodded, knowing how fickle Godric’s pleasure could be. And how fleeting. “Are you mad?”  
  
  
“No. Never.”   
  
  
“I love you, and him.”  
  
  
“And I you, and him as well.”   
  
  
Godric kissed Eric and watched as he curled around his newborn fledge protectively before falling into sleep. Godric covered them both before finally letting his eyes shut as he fell into his own dreams.


	6. Chapter 6

“Wilhelm!”  
  
  
Fritz hid behind Eric as Katarina came thundering out of the door, a crazed, concerned look in her eyes.  
  
  
“Hello mutti.”  
  
  
“Wilhelm?”  
  
  
Fritz peered around Eric. This had been a bad idea. He had talked Eric and Godric into letting him go home and tell his family everything. Now, surrounded by the heady, thick smell of blood, he was regretting it.  
  
  
“Mama, give him some breathing room.”   
  
  
Fritz exhaled softly at Hannah’s voice. He had told her already, so he wasn’t worried, she was his back up. He shot her a grateful smile and she nodded, smiling back.   
  
  
“Come on, we’ll sit out back. It’ll be nice.”  
  
  
They walked through the house to the backyard and sat in the chairs, Fritz practically crowding Eric. Eric sprawled out in a lounge chair and pulled Fritz against him, murmuring almost silently against his neck. Godric helped himself to a coffee and sat next to them, sipping slowly.   
  
  
“Wilhelm, this woman, Janna, she phoned and said that you were hurt something terrible! You seem alright, are you alright?”  
  
  
“Mutti…” Fritz started slowly, taking in shaky breaths. “I…” He covered his face as red tears fell from his eyes. “I’m a vampire.”  
  
  
There was silence as Katarina processed the information. Fritz peered at her through gaps in his fingers and slowly lowered them and nodded. “It’s okay. I’m sure Mr. Northman did it because he loves you, isn’t that right, Mr. Northman?”  
  
  
“Ja, gnädige frau.”  
  
  
Fritz snorted into Eric’s chest and laughed wetly. “Way to show your age. No one uses that term anymore.”  
  
  
“Well, how am I supposed to show respect? Punk.” Eric asked, poking Fritz hard in the side.  
  
  
Fritz whined in the back of his throat at the sudden smell of something strong and sour. He shuddered against Eric and raised his head, wiping away his sticky, red tears, peering towards the house to see his father come storming out. Oh  _God_  he smelled so wrong. Putrid and almost foul, unlike anything Fritz had smelled before. He thought he was going to be sick, it was so overpowering.  
  
  
“What…?”  
  
  
His father was screaming obscenities but Fritz could barely hear him, his head hurt and the smell was making him dizzy. The dirty, bad, wrong smell.   
  
  
“Focus,” Eric breathed in his ear and clutched him tighter, “just focus.”  
  
  
Fritz whined before the smell suddenly stopped, replaced by honeysuckle and lemons, and Fritz relaxed against Eric. As he sagged against Eric, he felt warmth against his back and he shuddered, the smell and warmth seeping into him and making him relax and purr quietly.   
  
  
“It’s alright, brüderlein.”   
  
  
Slowly Fritz sat up on his own, wavering. His father was gone but the lingering smell was still faint. “What happened?”  
  
  
“Certain people smell like who they really are.”  
  
  
“Oh.” Fritz nodded slowly, settling against Eric more comfortably.   
  
  
“Stefan and I are eloping to Las Vegas,” Hannah informed, taking hold of Fritz’s hand.   
  
  
Fritz smiled. “That’ll be fun.”  
  
  
“I just wish you could come.”  
  
  
“I know.”  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
“I’ll be here when you wake up.” Godric smiled down at Fritz who curled up in his Anubis Airlines coffin.   
  
  
Fritz nodded his head, yawning. It was almost dawn. “I know. Then we’ll be home.”  
  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
  
Godric waved as the lid was placed over Fritz and walked over to Eric, who was frowning down at the too-small coffin. His frown melted away when he saw Godric. “We always leave Germany in a rush.”  
  
  
“I know. Be it because of Calvinism, in Waffen SS uniforms, or because you have responsibilities in a small down in Louisiana.”   
  
  
Eric smiled faintly and tipped his head back, thinking. “Ah, Operation Werwolf.”   
  
  
“If I’m not mistaken you bent me over a school desk and fucked me so hard I thought it was the seventeen hundreds and we were in Vienna.”  
  
  
Eric’s smile grew and he nodded. “I remember.” His eyes turned to the sleek black coffin that contained Fritz. “He wants you; wants every part of you.”   
  
  
“I know. So did you.”  
  
  
Eric nodded and pressed his mouth to Godric’s temple. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”  
  
  
“Sleep well.”  
  
  
Eric swung himself into the coffin, grumbling about the size as he squeezed himself in and fell asleep.  
  
  
Godric boarded the plane and made himself comfortable as the pre-flight instructions began.  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
“You turned him,” Pam observed, watching as Fritz forced his way through a few bottles of TruBlood.   
  
  
“I did.”   
  
  
Pam nodded; looking at Eric, then back at Fritz. “Yvetta is beginning to bore me.”   
  
  
Eric frowned at her. “Why?”  
  
  
Pam shrugged and Eric sighed, watching, and then laughing as Fritz hopped onto the bar and hauled Godric up to dance with him.   
  
  
“Sookie Stackhouse was here with her vampire.”  
  
  
Eric pinched his nose. Bill Compton, the thorn in his side. “And?”  
  
  
“Jessica is causing problems. I offered to take care of her, but Sookie insisted to talk to you.”  
  
  
Eric huffed a sigh and wondered what he had ever seen in the blonde haired telepathic waitress. “I’ll phone her.”  
  
  
“Also, some minors tried sneaking into the bar. I dealt with it and phoned the police.”  
  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
  
Eric headed to his office, sending a fleeting glance and smile in Fritz’s and Godric’s directions before settling into his Sheriff’s duties.  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
“Hey, I have a question,” Fritz murmured as he stepped into the bedroom, towel drying his freshly dyed hair. It was now a shockingly electric purple shade.   
  
  
“Yes?” Godric asked, peering over from the TV, smiling at Fritz.   
  
  
“What’s my cool new vampire power? Eric can fly, what could you do?”  
  
  
“I was telekinetic.”  
  
  
Fritz flopped on the bed, watching as Godric bounced up and down. Eric was busy being Mr. Important-Business-Man in the other room. “Well, how do I know?”  
  
  
“One day it shows itself. Don’t force it.”  
  
  
Fritz pouted before slinking over to Godric, crawling over top of him and nuzzling against him, sniffing him. “You smell like soap.”  
  
  
“I know. I took a shower.”   
  
  
Fritz frowned, displeased. “I like when you smell like yourself.”  
  
  
Godric tilted his head and raised his fingers, scratching into Fritz’s hair. Fritz sighed and lay against Godric like a contented cat. He rubbed his nose against Godric’s neck and licked at the skin, testing to see how far Godric would let him go.   
  
  
“Fritz… No.” Godric prompted, soft but sure.  
  
  
“But I want –”  
  
  
“It’s a violation of my body, Fritz. I don’t want you to do it.”  
  
  
“You did it to people.”  
  
  
“I did. I grew to regret it in my later years.”  
  
  
Fritz snuffed and rolled off of Godric with a considerable amount of effort. “When will you let me drink from you?”  
  
  
“When the time is right.” Fritz opened his mouth to argue but closed it when Godric kissed him and pulled him against his chest. “Rest.”  
  
  
“But –”   
  
  
“ **Rest**.”  
  
  
Fritz drifted off.   
  
  
~*~  
  
  
Fritz sat out on the balcony. It was storming like mad; bucketing down icy rain and hail and frightening lightning and intense winds. He stared hard at the mug he had filled with water sitting on the table beside him with intense concentration on his face.  
  
  
“C’mon move.” He pursed his lips and lowered his chin to the table top, glaring now. “Move. Move. Move.”  
  
  
“That isn’t how it works.”  
  
  
Fritz jolted up, whipping his head around to look at Eric, who was dressed in a silk robe and leaning against the balcony, sipping a TruBlood casually. Sexy fucker. “Well, how does it work?”  
  
  
“I found mine when I was protecting Godric. He had been taken from me and I just thought of him and suddenly I was flying. Godric said he discovered his own when he made his first child, long before me, and he was killed by raiders. Godric was so angered everything inside of him exploded and he leveled a large part of the forest he was in.”  
  
  
“But I don’t want to have to wait until the people I love are in danger.”  
  
  
Eric ran his hands through Fritz’s damp hair and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I know.”  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
The storms raged on. It was right in the middle of hurricane season – September.   
  
  
Power flickered in Fangtasia before finally going out. Godric straightened in Eric’s lap, watching as emergency lights and candles flickered to life. Fritz sauntered over from behind the bar, hands in his pockets, humming.  
  
  
“You know, maybe we should close down until this hurricane blows over.”  
  
  
“Maybe you’re right,” Godric mused, watching as some vampires still continued conversations. “But vampires do love the dark.”  
  
  
“Meh.” Fritz shrugged and sat in the chair next to Eric’s throne. “I’d rather be at home, cuddled with you and Eric with candles.”  
  
  
“That’s actually a large fire hazard in my building,” Eric groused.  
  
  
“No fun,” Fritz pouted, crossing his arms.  
  
  
“That doesn’t mean we can’t cuddle in the dark,” Godric pointed out.  
  
  
Fritz hauled Godric out of Eric’s lap. “What are we waiting for, let’s go.”  
  
  
Fritz pulled his hood up to protect his hair as they walked into the lashing wind and rain. He shoved his hands into his pockets and trudged on against the rain. He whirled too late at the scream, falling to the ground under the weight of silver. He thrashed under the burning feel, howling. His eyes flew around for Eric, who was struggling against five masked figures baring silver crosses.  
  
  
Fellowship.  
  
  
“Stake!”   
  
  
Godric’s shrill voice invaded his mind and Fritz saw him fall to the wet, cold ground, stake embedded in his ribs.  
  
  
No, no, no, no! Please no!  
  
  
Something inside of Fritz snapped and he screamed, high and long and as loud as he could.   
  
  
Orange flared up behind his closed lids and Fritz’s opened them. Fire. What the fuck?   
  
  
The religious fanatics scattered, screaming and aflame and Fritz saw Eric drop down beside Godric, blood falling from his eyes and then there was nothing but black.   
  
  
Painful black.


	7. Chapter 7

_“You said you would never make a child.”  
  
  
“I know, but she intrigued me.”   
  
  
Eric looked down at the body of the primly dressed, but wild woman. Her blonde hair was fanned around her head like a halo on the ground.   
  
  
“Why?”  
  
  
Eric tilted his head and hummed. “Because she did not fit in. Like us.”  
  
  
“So you greedily stole her life?”  
  
  
“As you did with mine.”  
  
  
“You were dying.”  
  
  
“So was she, slowly but surely.”  
  
  
Godric clicked his tongue and pursed his lips at the dead woman once known as Pam. “Blood is sacred, child.”  
  
  
“I will never make another, Godric. My blood is yours only.”  
  
  
Eric lifted Pam to bring her to her home and lay out her body for her family to find. Godric trailed behind, patient and sure._  
  
  
Godric clawed his way up through the dirt, gasping into the wet air when he broke the surface. He spat out mud and shuddered on the ground as he hauled himself up more and more, tearing out clumps of grass with each clawed grasp of his new life. He rested against the muddy ground and rolled onto his back, exposing his face to the rain and wind.   
  
  
“Godric?”  
  
  
Godric opened his eyes, looking through the hail and rain to Eric. “Yes?”  
  
  
“Are you alright?”  
  
  
“Dying is much more painful than I recall.”  
  
  
Eric snorted, crouching over Godric and smoothing a hand down his cheek. “I didn’t want this for you. Not so soon.”  
  
  
“I know, my love. I know.”   
  
  
“I broke my promise to you. I made two children after Pam.”   
  
  
Godric laughed breathlessly, standing on weak legs. “For love, child, not for greed.”  
  
  
Eric steadied Godric. “You’re the child now.”   
  
  
Godric peered at Eric. “Yes, I suppose I am.” He looked around as lightning flashed. “Where’s Fritz?”  
  
  
“At home with Pam, eagerly awaiting your return. He set the attackers on fire.”  
  
  
Godric looked up at Eric, puzzled. “How?”  
  
  
Eric lifted Godric in his arms and kissed him sweetly. “Pyro-kinetics. It’s his gift.”  
  
  
Godric looped his arms around Eric’s neck as they walked towards Eric’s condo. “We picked a good one, didn’t we?”  
  
  
Eric threw his head back and laughed. “We did.”  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
Godric dressed slowly after his bath and emerged from the bathroom, smiling at Fritz’s worried face and folding his arms around Fritz when he was pulled into a hug.   
  
  
“You were bleeding and dying and I couldn’t move and –”  
  
  
“You did plenty from what I was told.”  
  
  
“I know. I went all Charlene McGee on their asses.”  
  
  
“Who?” Godric’s brows furrowed and he jutted out his chin, looking confused.  
  
  
“Charlene “Charlie” McGee - Firestarter - awesome book by Stephen King.”  
  
  
“I’m afraid I haven’t read it.”   
  
  
Fritz frowned. “Well, you should.”  
  
  
Godric only nodded once and walked back into the living room, silent, and stood behind Eric until he finished talking to Pam and turned to Godric. “I’m hungry.”  
  
  
“We have TruBlood.”  
  
  
“No.”  
  
  
“You’re the one who started me drinking it.”  
  
  
“I’m aware of that. I want fresh blood. Right now.”  
  
  
Eric nodded softly and looked to Fritz. “Want to go hunting?”  
  
  
“Hell yes.”  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
After feeding Eric suggested they go out to a club. The weather had finally cleared and with fresh blood pumping through them, they were raring to go.   
  
  
“Let’s go dancing,” Fritz cried, bouncing around.   
  
  
“I have a suggestion,” Godric broke in quietly. He sidled up to Eric, shooting a glance and a smile to Fritz before whispering something in Eric’s ear.  
  
  
“Oh you’re wicked.” Eric grinned, hands smoothing over Godric’s shoulders. “I’d forgotten how naughty you could be.”  
  
  
Godric pulled back. “I had mellowed greatly.”  
  
  
Eric flashed a grin to Fritz. “We’re taking a roadtrip.”  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
About four hours later they pulled into New Orleans, Fritz watched out the window, awed.   
  
  
“Never been?” Godric asked.  
  
  
“Nope. It’s amazing.”  
  
  
“You should have seen it in the eighties.” Eric pulled the car – a jaguar, thank you – into a side street and parked.   
  
  
Fritz followed he and Godric as they weaved through the city. “Where are we going?”  
  
  
“It’s a surprise.”  
  
  
“I hope it’s still here after Katrina.”  
  
  
“It was in the Quarter, so it should be okay.”  
  
  
After a bit of walking and weaving, they slid into a small district that was mostly older houses and at the end was a large house on a hill. It looked old, a little ramshackle, and as they walked, Fritz realized that’s where they were headed.   
  
  
There was a man on the porch, well dressed and maybe forty. As Fritz drew closer, he realized the man had fangs. When he spoke, it was a Cajun accent. “I need some identification before I let you in.”  
  
  
Fritz reached for his wallet but Godric just shook his head and held his hand. There was a faint snap as Godric and then Eric’s fangs slid out. Fritz paused a moment, thinking about naked Godric – naked Godric biting him, bingo! His fangs slid out and with a nod, the door was opened and they were let inside.   
  
  
“This place is pretty secret, very secret, in fact, so don’t go blabbing.” Eric said as he followed a wrought iron staircase down into the building.   
  
  
It turned out the ramshackle house was just a front for the thriving club below it. Various scrawls in a multitude of languages ran over a board over the main doors that lead inside, Fritz caught one in German – Bloody Mary. It had to have been the name of the club.  
  
  
The music inside was pulsing and bodies gyrated together to the beat. Fritz followed Godric and Eric into the depths of the writhing masses, all vampires, all dancing. He knew of vampire clubs, hell, he worked in one, but an exclusive one was news to him. It made sense, however, that they would want a nostalgic place that belonged only to them.   
  
  
Godric pulled Fritz against his body, grinning. “You’re going to like this.”  
  
  
“It’s just a club,” Fritz replied, his smile growing when Godric and then Eric removed their shirts. “But I love the partial nudity.”  
  
  
“You next,” Eric prompted, pulling off Fritz’s shirt and tossing it away.   
  
  
“What’s going on?”  
  
  
“Think of this as your full initiation into the vampire world,” Eric responded, smiling.   
  
  
Fritz’s face washed over in confusion. The music stopped and sirens, loud and accompanied by flashing red lights tore through the silence. Jeering and snarls rippled through the crowds, growls of pleasure and roars. Arms thrust up into the air and moved as the sirens and lights stopped and a fresh song started anew, thrumming with bass, and black lights occasionally broke the darkness.   
  
  
Fritz looked between Godric and Eric. Eric was calm, almost statuesque, and had a faint smile on his face while Godric bounced on the balls of his feet, face lifted to the ceiling. Fritz turned in place, looking up at the ceiling, pipes criss-crossed the whole of the club – save for the DJ stand.  
  
  
The sirens went off again and the roars and jeers started up again, louder and louder.   
  
  
Rain fell from above, torrential, warm, and unending.   
  
  
Blood.  
  
  
As Fritz’s head whipped between Godric and Eric, who were grinning wickedly and moving in time with the merciless beat, Fritz realized it was raining blood. Laughing, Fritz raised his arms above his head and began to dance.   
  
  
“I told you he’d like it!” Godric called over the music, pulling Eric closer, sliding his hands down Eric’s blood-soaked body, his grin feral.   
  
  
Eric opened his mouth to reply, but instead pulled Godric against his body and kissed him. He broke from his Maker-now-child and sucked the blood from his neck. It was warm and thick – a mixture of a variety of humans. A cacophony of souls melding into a orchestra on Godric’s flesh.   
  
  
Godric groaned, head falling back as a second mouth, cold and familiar and so obviously Fritz’s joined against the other side of his neck. A hand twined around Eric’s neck while the other stretched back to grip at Fritz.   
  
  
Fritz’s tongue swirled around Godric’s join of neck and shoulder, fangs scraping and nipping, but never biting.   
  
  
“Do it,” Godric choked out, voice thick and pleading.  
  
  
Fritz didn’t hesitate, he bit down and Godric jerked in the twin grasps, crying out. Fritz snarled with barely restrained pleasure, drinking with soft gulps before pulling his mouth away. He shuddered and licked his lips free of blood. It may not have been as long a wait as he had dreaded, but it had been worth every second.   
  
  
He stretched across Godric and hauled Eric into a kiss as they fell into a tangled heap upon the blood drenched floor.  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
“Oh my God, I love you both.” Fritz flopped back against the bedspread in their New Orleans hotel. They had gotten back just under two hours ago and proceeded to christen the new hotel room.   
  
  
Dawn was creeping up on them now and Fritz yawned widely. Humming in pleasure and thoroughly exhausted.   
  
  
“I second that motion,” Godric said into Fritz’s stomach.  
  
  
“And I third it,” Eric managed around a yawn.   
  
  
Fritz groped around for the blankets and pulled them up as he curled into Eric’s side. There was a bit of a scuffle as Godric climbed over him to lay against Eric’s other side.   
  
  
Entwined, they slept. 


	8. Chapter 8

Fritz groaned as the phone woke him, the world crashing into existence as his dreams melted away. He sat up and looked around blearily for the source of the noise. The shower was running and the low, softly Gaelic singing told him Godric was showering which meant that Eric was either still sleeping or out, or he was in the shower with Godric and being rude for not inviting him along.  
  
  
Padding along, yawning and scratching his head, uncaring of his nudity, Fritz found the source of the ringing. Eric’s cell phone. In Eric’s pants. Which were on the floor. Meaning Eric was in the shower and being a greedy bastard. He picked them up, rifling through the pockets before producing the slim black phone. He read the name on it: Sookie Stackhouse, he didn’t recognize it.   
  
  
The phone rang at him again. Annoying. He frowned at it and flipped it open with his thumb and placed it to his ear. “Eric Northman’s pants. He’s not in them right now, can I take a message?”  
  
  
“Who’s this?”   
  
  
The voice was Southern, low and drawling, and female. Fritz put a hand on his naked hip and frowned.   
  
  
“Who are you is the better question, you woke me up.”  
  
  
There was a pause as a hand went over the receiver and a muffled conversation continued, and Fritz pushed his hearing out, listening.  
  
  
“—it is. It isn’t Eric, and it’s not Pam.”  
  
  
“Perhaps it’s a human he trusts. Who maintains his home.”  
  
  
There was a scratching noise and Fritz tuned back into a normal level of hearing. “Is Eric there?”  
  
  
“He’s indisposed at the moment.”  
  
  
“Heard that before, can you put him on, please. Tell him it’s an emergency, tell him it’s Sookie.”  
  
  
Fritz scowled; he didn’t like getting ordered around, especially when he just woke up. It was the least he could do, though, and it was polite. “Alright, just a moment.” Fritz lowered the phone from his ear and padded along, pushing open the bathroom door. “Eric?”  
  
  
“Ah! You’re awake, going to come in?”  
  
  
“You have a phone call. Someone named Sookie, she says it’s important.”  
  
  
Eric’s head appeared from behind the black shower curtain, lathered with shampoo. He frowned at the phone and then disappeared behind the curtain a moment and the running water stopped before he took the phone from Fritz.   
  
  
“Ms. Stackhouse…I apologize if he seemed rude… I can meet you at Fangtasia at midnight, very good.” Eric’s head appeared again and he tossed the phone lightly onto the pile of towels. He noted Fritz’s annoyed expression and smiled endearingly. “Jealous?”  
  
  
“You’re greedy, why wouldn’t I be jealous?”  
  
  
“There is room for three…”  
  
  
The water started back up and Fritz climbed into the tub, discovering that the reason Godric was no longer singing was because he had put his mouth to better use. Fritz’s eyes journeyed up Eric’s form and his fangs popped out. Eric purred, back arching and a few moments later his back arched and Godric slid up from his knees and turned to Fritz.   
  
  
“Good Morning.”   
  
  
Before Fritz could respond, Godric slid down his body and Fritz tipped his head back, hands burying into Godric’s hair.   
  
  
Good morning indeed.  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
Fritz writhed to the music, hands burying into his hair as he rolled his hips to the beat, the black-light and glow in the dark body paint snaking over his body seeming to move as he did. He loved working at Fangtasia, some nights he was a bartender, even though he was underage, he served but never drank, some nights he was a stock keeper, some nights a bouncer, and some nights – like tonight – a dancer.   
  
  
Fangtasia was mostly dark, lit by strobe lights, black lights and glow sticks. It was a theme night, Eric had wanted a masquerade for the older cliental, Godric didn’t know what to think, but Fritz knew the locals, the people who drove in from out of town, and if people liked anything, it was a good rave. Plus it gave him a chance to try out his newest prized possession, a glow in the dark tongue stud.   
  
  
“Cool!”  
  
  
“Jessica, you will stay with me!”  
  
  
“Oh Bill, let her have a little fun.”  
  
  
Fritz whipped around, the voice, the voice on the phone – Sookie. He narrowed in on it, on her, looking like homely vampire bait. Pam wasn’t working and Eric was in the back with Godric, which left Fritz to show her the way to the door. He hopped off the bar and worked his way over to her, taking in her company, a tall, dark and boring looking male vampire and a young, brassy looking red headed vampire, but Sookie was human.  
  
  
Fang banger?  
  
  
“You must be Sookie Stackhouse.”   
  
  
Sookie looked him up and down, he was sure he made quite a sight: shirtless, chest covered in body paint, wearing black bondage pants and barefoot, his electric purple hair spiked wildly, piercings glinting in the flashes of light and mouth a soft orange every time he spoke. A quick look of distaste flashed over her face before she recognized his voice.  
  
  
“You were the one on the phone!”  
  
  
“Mm. Wilhelm von Lothringen,” he introduced, offering a hand.   
  
  
She shook, even though she looked baffled by the name, her male companion, however straightened and looked shocked. “Furst von Lothringen?”  
  
  
Fritz dropped Sookie’s hand. “Yes. You are?”  
  
  
“Oh! William Compton.” Fritz took his hand and shook. “I had no idea there were vampires in the German royal family.”  
  
  
“It’s a recent development. Come with me.”  
  
  
“Royal family?” Sookie whispered as soon as he’d turned, no doubt wide-eyed and shocked.  
  
  
He led them through the crowd and knocked on the door, before popping his head in, speaking quietly in German before turning back to Sookie. “Excuse me a minute.” Fritz barely opened the door enough to slide inside before shutting it. “I’m working and you’re in here having sex? What is with you two?”  
  
  
Godric was sprawled out, chest heaving unnecessarily as he looked back at Fritz. “The new, young blood in my system is doing something to me. I’m… needy.”  
  
  
Fritz raised a brow, and then looked to Eric. “You have visitors. Stackhouse et al.”   
  
  
“I’ll go deal with them.” Eric was already finished getting dressed. “Are you coming?”  
  
  
“I’ll… stay and keep and eye on him.”  
  
  
Eric rolled his eyes before walking out of the room, shutting the door behind himself. “Ms. Stackhouse.”  
  
  
Fritz smiled at Godric, slinking over to the desk. “I like new, needy you.”  
  
  
“I suspect it has something to do with the time we spent in New Orleans.”  
  
  
Fritz leaned down and kissed Godric, sighing as his fangs sliced Godric’s tongue and the blood flowed between them. Fritz slid down Godric’s body, tongue leaving a wet trail before he settled between Godric’s legs.  
  
  
“Oh!” Godric arched, his fangs snapping out.   
  
  
~*~  
  
  
Fritz held tight to Godric’s hand as they wove their way through the people to the secluded table in the back where he could smell Eric. He was conversing with Sookie and her compatriots so Fritz quietly moved a chair over to the table, not wanting to bother them and sat down, pulling Godric into his lap.   
  
  
“Hello Ms. Stackhouse.”  
  
  
“Oh, hey Godric. So... as I was…” Sookie’s words died and she turned, slowly, very slowly in her chair. “Godric?”  
  
  
Godric blinked at her. “Hello again.”  
  
  
“But… There was sun and a flame and no more you.”  
  
  
“I remember quite clearly.”  
  
  
“But…” Sookie’s head whipped to Bill. “You see him too, right?” He nodded and she looked to Eric. “How is he here?”  
  
  
“Necromancy.”  
  
  
“Ne-what?”  
  
  
“Necromancy – Death magic. He came back.”  
  
  
“When?”  
  
  
“About… Six or seven months now.”  
  
  
“Your maker has been here for seven months and you haven’t told me and you’re friends with a prince from Germany and Godric is in his lap, what is going on?! What happened?”  
  
  
Godric shrugged. “A lot.”  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
It turned out that there was a demon problem in Bon Temps and also that Jessica needed a stronger, female role model, according to Bill. Everything was dealt with quickly, the proper people were dispatched away for the demons and Pam was given guardianship over Jessica, which, if her smile was anything to go by, made Pam very pleased.  
  
  
Fritz walked out of the condo, Godric had left about twenty minutes ago, and without Eric there, Fritz was lonely and concerned. He found Godric in the forest not far from the condo in the clearing; he was only wearing a pair of jeans, his shirt folded and shoes resting beside it, as he moved about the clearing. He was pulling things out of a fair sized box, which he had with him when he left, he paused after pulling out a bottle of wine and turned, looking to Fritz.  
  
  
“What are you doing?” Fritz asked, slowly walking into the clearing.   
  
  
“Praying.”  
  
  
Fritz tilted his head, confusion on his face, he stepped forward a bit more and stopped about twenty feet behind Godric. The smaller vampire was spreading things out in front of him, incense, a box of matches, a pomegranate, a knife, a bottle of red wine, and as he reached into the box he pulled out one last thing, a figurine.   
  
  
It wasn’t overly large, only about a foot high and maybe two feet across but it seemed powerful, even a tad oppressive. It was made of stone, chipped and faded with age. Fritz noticed it was a woman, with curled hair adorned with a crown and a long veil flowing down and framing her face, extending even beyond that. She was seated in a throne and dressed in flowing robes, a lion sat at her feet, looking up at her.   
  
  
As Godric set the figurine down in front of him on the ground and sliced the pomegranate in half, placing it before the statuette and then lit the incense, blowing lightly to extinguish the flame and watched as smoke curled up. He stuck the incense into the ground just below the pomegranate.   
  
  
Fritz held his breath, or his metaphorical breath, as Godric climbed to his feet and removed his pants and underwear. He folded them and placed them atop his shirt before picking up the bottle of wine and with a skilled flick of the knife, opened it. Godric poured the wine into the ground in front of the statuette, slowly, back and forth in a long, horizontal line. When the bottle was empty he placed it aside and knelt down before his makeshift altar.  
  
  
Fritz heard low, very low, whispering. It was fast and in Latin. He couldn’t understand it, but he recognized the tone of reverence in Godric’s voice. It was waves of powerful respect, something that seemed out of place leaving Godric for a deity. Out of the jumble of archaic Latin Fritz recognized a word; a name – “Cybele”.   
  
  
His eyes turned back to the statuette, to the mother goddess who had delivered so much. Who had given him Godric. Given  **them**  Godric. Given  **them**  unending love. Given  **them**  the true concept of life.   
  
  
As Godric slowly straightened in front of the Goddess, his Goddess, Fritz couldn’t help but smile. A being worshipped thousands of years ago had defied all, brought together three unique lives and bound them together, despite time, and space, and even age.   
  
  
Fritz watched as the smoke curled up and up and up. He closed his eyes; let it all wash over him, the calmness, and the oneness.   
  
  
In the silence, he heard it.  
  
  
 _You’re welcome_.


End file.
